


How to Snag Your Bloke in Four Easy Steps

by Ashii Black (ashiiblack)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, M/M, Remix, Romance, Scheming, Snogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 08:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashiiblack/pseuds/Ashii%20Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wants Malfoy.  Knowing that Malfoy <i>always</i> needs to be the one to initiate things, he decides to make things easier for him.  Remixed from <a href="http://mayfly-78.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://mayfly-78.livejournal.com/"><b>mayfly_78</b></a>'s <a href="http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/113/8/5/the_rules_of_the_hunt_1_by_lazylinepainterjane-d3eob55.jpg">Rules of the Hunt Part 1</a> and <a href="http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/113/9/7/the_rules_of_the_hunt_2_by_lazylinepainterjane-d3eobmf.jpg">Rules of the Hunt Part 2</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Snag Your Bloke in Four Easy Steps

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's notes** : [](http://mayfly-78.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://mayfly-78.livejournal.com/)**mayfly_78** , I was blown away at the number and quality of pieces I could choose from. I decided to tell your art through Harry's POV, who didn't seem quite as unsuspecting in my eyes. This is also my attempt at a "no-angst" fic, as I apparently have an appetite for doing so. A special thanks to I. for the incredibly helpful and speedy beta job, and to the fest mods, who always put on a wonderful fest.

 

**Step 1: Dress to impress**

"Hermione, I look ridiculous."

Harry stared into the mirror.  His face fell as he looked up and down at himself.  He wore an all-maroon suit and a top-hat on his head.  Gaudy gold chains hung out of his vest pockets, and his white shirtsleeves could be described only as "poofy."

Hermione stood up from her chair in the dressing room and burst into laughter.  "Of course you do!  I just wanted to see if you'd believe anything I suggested for you.  That proves it.  Harry, go change out of that, so we can find you some real clothes.  You look like the Mad Hatter."

After several grumbles and cursing the day he asked Hermione to help him find a new wardrobe, Harry and Hermione were back on the streets in Soho in New York City.  Hermione had suggested that the best way to re-invent himself was to take a holiday and come back not only looking new and refreshed, but also feeling the same way.

They wandered around several boutique stores, but Hermione dismissed most outfits.  She had apparently fallen victim to a fashion obsession when she befriended Pansy Parkinson during a work event.  Pansy had shown her the way of designer labels and since that fateful day, Hermione had never been the same.

Harry groaned and plopped onto a bench next to a small park.  "'Mione, don't you think we're being a little too picky?  I only have a single dress shirt and we've been at this for _hours_."

Hermione shook her head.  "Aren't gays supposed to enjoy shopping?"

"Aren't gays supposed to know about fashion?" Harry's words were laced with both fondness, and irritation.  "I don't know what I'm doing, Hermione."

"Allow me to remind you.  First off, you fancy Draco Malfoy.  Second, there is no way that he would ever give you a second's notice if you're still wearing clothes passed down from your cousin.  Finally, you decided that because of reasons one and two, you need a complete makeover and asked me to help."

"Right."  Harry stood up, feeling energized once again.  "Find me a store that will have what we need."

He held out his hand to Hermione, who took it and pulled herself up.  She checked her map, and pointed to her right.  "There is a boutique called Silk and Things over that way, which should have what we need."

"Silk and Things?"  Harry's voice was apprehensive.  "I don't do silk."

"Exactly.  That's what the 'Things' are there for."

Harry buried his face in his hands and groaned, but decided to trust his friend.  They walked down the street and found the small clothing store.

It was a Wizarding store, so it met both Muggle and Wizard fashion trends.  Just by glancing at Hermione, Harry could tell that this was the boutique they would find something at.

"May I help you?" A short but friendly saleslady stepped forward.

The nicest part about being in America was that most wizards didn't recognize Harry as a famous wizard.  They treated him like a normal person, which was refreshing.  In fact, they were far more excited about his accent than anything else.  "Certainly.  My friend is looking to redo his wardrobe completely.  As you can see, it's about fifteen years out of date."

She curled her nose at Harry as she looked him up and down.  "Such a pretty face, too.  Darling, why would you possibly want to be seen looking like that?"

Harry sighed.  It wasn't the first time that morning an employee had poked fun at his clothes.  "Help me out?"

"What are you looking for?"  Her measuring tape was already zooming around his body as a quill scribbled furiously midair to write down his measurements.

"I want to look trendy."  Harry paused.  "I'm trying to get someone to notice me - romantically.  However, I still want to completely change my look at the same time.  I'm looking to fill my closet entirely with new clothes."

The lady hesitated for a second.  "You can afford our prices?"

Harry held up a Platinum Galleon Card.  "I'll manage."

"Very well.  Sir, ma'am, you may call me Sylvia.  What sorts of clothes do you like?"

Harry closed his eyes, briefly losing himself in deep thought.  "I like solid colors, no patterns.  I want clothes that fit me well, but not skin tight.  I work as an Auror, so I need professional clothes as well."

Hermione jumped in.  "Get him some denims to make his arse pop.  Ignore some of what he said and pick out any patterns that will work well with his green eyes."

Sylvia nodded.  "I'll be back with some clothes in your measurements shortly."

Harry and Hermione sat down in the lush dressing room chairs as they watched Sylvia dash around the store, pulling out various boxes of clothes and then immediately setting them back down.  Finally, she came back with an armload of clothes.

"Go on."  Hermione motioned to the clothes.  "Show us each and every one of them."

After several hours, a fit of tears on Harry's end, a broken button, a near-empty Galleon Card, and a rather poky needle, Harry and Hermione exited Silk and Things with exactly eight bags filled to the brim with new clothes.

"I'm quite pleased with what we managed to buy today."

Harry nodded.  "Who knew that they made those sort of pants?"

"G-strings are not a new invention, Harry."  Hermione's voice was gentle, but clearly amused.  "You will get to wear that when you finally bed Malfoy."

"Bed - Malfoy?"

"Don't act like an innocent virgin, Harry.  The moment Malfoy sees you, all he will be able to think of is how fine you look in those denims."

"What if he sees me at work and I'm wearing my tan trousers?"

"Even better."

**

Harry made his way through the Ministry Hall, searching for Kingsley.  They were due to have a lunch date and discuss allocating funds to help victims of abuse in the cases he had been working on.

After coming back from his holiday, everyone who had saw him complimented him on his new look.  He cut his hair and waxed several places both visible and not visible to the public eye.  The _Daily Prophet_ had called it a "fashion miracle" and _Witch Weekly_ proclaimed that "Potter is triple the bachelor he was just a week before," coming up just shy of Channing Tatum.

Yet, he hadn't seen Malfoy anywhere.  It was strange, as a member of the Improper Use of Magic Office he should have been around Harry constantly.  Harry was getting nervous.  Maybe he had to take things even further to get Malfoy to notice him, let alone fancy him.

He finally encountered Kingsley, who immediately launched into a tirade about how Harry couldn't use his fame to push for anything he wanted.  Seeing as Harry had this speech memorized to the t, his eyes wandered to an upstairs office.

Malfoy.

Malfoy was watching him as though he was a piece of meat that had just been placed in front of him.  Harry grinned in his direction and turned back to Kingsley.  He could feel Malfoy's eyes burning straight through his head.

Harry didn't mind.  No, he didn't mind at all.

 

**Step 2: Make yourself available**

"Are you ready for this?" Ron slapped Harry on the back of the shoulder, who began coughing up his porridge.

After he was done coughing up his breakfast, he turned to Ron.  "I've never been readier."

They watched in anticipation as the owl drew nearer.  It delivered the paper to them, Ron giving it a Sickle.  He turned to Harry.  "Well?  Open it!"

Harry unfolded that morning's edition of the _Daily Prophet_.

_"The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Gay?"_

They stared at the article in silence.

>   
>  Harry Potter, better known as the Boy-Who-Lived, has given this reporter an exclusive interview about his sexuality.
> 
> 'I couldn't keep it in any longer,' he says with little to no regret in his voice.  'It's a part of who I am and I know that those that matter will accept that.  Most of my friends know that I'm gay already.'
> 
> This shouldn't come as a surprise to most readers.  Potter's relationships with women have failed on epic proportions.  Who could ever forget the Potter/Weasley breakup of 2000?
> 
> What's next for the Savior of the Wizarding World?
> 
> 'Maybe now I can find a nice bloke and settle down with him,' Potter says, his eyes shining with excitement.  'I've always wanted a family to call my own.'
> 
> No matter what happens to Potter, surely the _Daily Prophet_ will be the first on the scene to share it with Britain.

"No doubt they will." Harry's tone was mixed with both relief and anxiety.

"Hannah did a good job with the article."

Harry nodded. "She cut out a lot of the more personal details I gave her, which I appreciate."

"What now?"

"We wait for the flood of owls and then we wander around for a bit."

Several hours later, they had sorted the piles of mail on the table into "I'm happy for you!"; "You're going to hell!" and Harry's personal favorite, gay bachelors.

"If you weren't after Malfoy, then I would have gone for the beefcake over there."  Ron motioned to the photo of the half naked bloke winking at them.

Harry shook his head.  "You know I'm only after one person."

"See, that's where I'm confused.  When did this happen?"

Harry rolled his eyes.  "You haven't listened to a damn word I've said recently, have you?"

"I usually listen.  It's just that when Malfoy's name is mentioned, my eyes glaze over and I start thinking about marmalade and toast."

He sighed and flicked his wand, sending the more negative letters straight into the fireplace.  "I don't know when exactly it started.  I think I've always had feelings for Malfoy, and I've only recently been able to identify what exactly those feelings meant.  I saw him in his office one day, leaning over on his desk, his pointed little nose practically touching the paper as he tried to decipher those runes.  I smiled.  I think I was attracted to the passion and commitment he showed.  He's a hard worker, he's gotten much nicer, and he's only got better looking."

"Especially since he started letting his hair down a bit."  Ron seemed like he hated to admit it, but Harry appreciated the attempt at his friend's support.

"I guess that's why I want him so much now.  We're both getting older and time is running out."

"Why don't you just ask him on a date like a normal bloke?"

"Ron, this is Malfoy we're talking about.  He needs to be the one to extend the invitation.  I need to get him to notice me, because Merlin knows if he wants me."

"You're Harry Potter.  Straight men would make you their exception."

Harry chuckled.  "Still.  I want to make sure that we do this on Malfoy's terms.  He needs to feel safe to make a move."

"That's awfully Slytherin of you."  Ron opened another letter that dropped in his lap, and quickly stuffed it in his front pocket.

"What was that?"

Ron blushed.  "A rather perky witch who feels she can convert you back to heterosexuality by showing you parts of her.  If you don't mind, I'll just keep a hold on this one."

Harry burst into laughter and raised an eyebrow.  "I don't mind, but I'm sure Hermione would have something to say about that."

As they finished cleaning up, Harry couldn't help but think back to the past few days.  Malfoy had been behind every corner, watching Harry.  At any other moment in time, he would have felt nervous, perhaps even a little harassed.  This was a testament to the fact that his plan was working.

Hermione pointed out that maybe Malfoy hadn't picked up on the fact that Harry was gay.  While that was a seemingly laughable idea to anyone who spent quality time with Harry, Malfoy did not.  It was Ron's idea to bring in a reporter they trusted to _out_ Harry on his terms.  It seemed to be a success, as he had far more supporters than naysayers.

His makeover had clearly worked, but now, the Quaffle was in Malfoy's hands.  He had to make the next move.

Although, Harry could probably help make the opportunity easier for him.

As an idea flooded through his brain, Harry turned to his friend.  "Ron, we need to do some reconnaissance work.  What pubs does Malfoy frequent?"

 

**Step 3: Allow him to buy you a drink**

"I never expected to find you in a place like this, Potter."

With his back turned to Malfoy, Harry's lips curled up into a grin.  No, he would never have expected to find himself at Albert and Pearl, a rather posh bar in Islington.  Yet, he and Ron had discovered that it was Malfoy's favorite bar.  In fact, he had a longstanding seat at the bar every Friday night.  A seat that Harry was currently sitting in.

He turned around and pushed a strand of hair out of his face.  "Why not?"

Malfoy shrugged.  He looked bloody fantastic.  He wore a white button down shirt and tight black trousers with a blue set of robes.  Harry had to fight from staring.  "I'd guess you would spend time at the Leaky Cauldron or Three Broomsticks.  You're someone who would rather stay with something comforting and familiar."

"Are you saying I'm boring?"

The other man sputtered for a moment, but picked his head back up.  "What if I was?"

Harry chuckled.  "I wouldn't be surprised."

Malfoy slid onto the stool next to Harry and ordered a scotch.  "So Potter, tell me about being an Auror."

"Besides the paperwork, it's my dream job.  I'm no longer a trainee, nor an intern, so I have a bit of influence in the Ministry now."

He snorted.  "Right, and I'm sure the Great Harry Potter didn't have any influence before that."

Harry felt a flash of heat as he replayed Malfoy's usage of his first name.  "Well, now I've earned it.  I feel I can use it."

"Potter, you could use your influence over any bloke to get them into bed.  I'm sure you could convince a couple of Ministry yes men to do your bidding."

Harry's eyes flashed in excitement.  "You read the _Daily Prophet_ article?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes.  "Potter, I knew you were queer before you did.  It was also the only thing my department could talk about for a week straight."  He began speaking in a high-pitched mocking voice.  "I will NEVER have a chance with Harry Potter now!"

Harry polished off his ale.  When he went to motion to the the bartender, Malfoy pressed his hand down, and then called the bartender over.  "Wilson, bring Potter your house oak stout.  Put it on my tab."

"You come here a lot?"  Harry didn't want to seem too innocent, but he wanted to keep the conversation going.

Malfoy nodded.  "This may be an upscale establishment, but the patrons check their judgmental attitudes at the door.  They don't bother me for my past and I don't bother them for theirs.  Plus, my family is friends with the owners.  We helped them open this place, after the Muggle version closed down."

Harry looked around at the marble tile and ceilings, along with the fine art hanging on the walls.  A grand piano was being played by a wizard in a robe with tailcoats as women in pink gowns sang along with the music.  A crowd of old wizards sat at a round table, playing some sort of card game.

"It's beautiful."

"My cousin designed it."  Malfoy's voice sounded wistful.  It was the first time Harry had ever heard that sort of softness in his tone.  He wanted to hear that more often.

"Your cousin did a great job."

The stouts came out and Harry took a sip.  It was divine; it tasted both sweet and bitter, with a nutty aftertaste.

It was silent for several beats, and then Malfoy spoke up.  "Have you taken much heat for that article?"

Harry shook his head.  "Like I said to Hannah, all of my friends knew already.  It was mostly old wizards and broken hearted witches that sent me hate mail."  He thought of Ron and the nude photograph and smiled.

"When I came out to my family, they were supportive.  I didn't think they would be.  The rest of the world didn't care."

Harry was surprised to hear Malfoy talk so openly about his sexual preference.  "I do remember hearing a rumor circulating around the Ministry that you had taken a page to bed."

Malfoy chuckled.  "Stewart.  That boy couldn't tell arse from cunt."

"I also heard that.  Have you been on many dates since then?"

"Potter, Potter, Potter, if I'm going to be telling you about my dates, I'm going to need more drinks in me."  Malfoy drank the rest of his scotch in a gulp and made a face.

Harry laughed and kept drinking his stout.  He could tell this night was going to be a good one.

 

**Step 4: Let him think he's won**

Harry and Malfoy were laughing, still sitting at the bar.  Several empty pints, along with empty tumblers that used to hold scotch sat in front of them.

"And then - he broke it!"

Harry smacked the table, curling his fingers underneath the cherry wood.  "He broke his cock in your arse?"

Malfoy wiped tears from his eyes.  "He deserved it.  The little bitch didn't know what he was doing down there."

"Malfoy, you need to find someone who knows what he's doing down there."  Harry leaned forward and fell off his stool.

"Ha!  Potter, you're drunk."  Malfoy pointed at Harry and burst into another fit of laughter.

"If I'm drunk, I don't know what you are."  Harry liked sitting on the ground.  It felt better than trying to balance on a stool without a back.

Wilson the bartender leaned forward.  "All right boys.  It looks as though you've had a little too much tonight.  Time to go home."

Harry pulled himself up and went to pull out change from his pocket.  Malfoy waved it away and gave Wilson a handful of galleons.  "That should cover the liquor and some new shoes, right Wilson?"

Wilson shook his head, bemused.  "Do you need an Apparation service?"

Malfoy thought for a second.  "No.  We are going to walk home."

"You live near here?"

"I do.  You can use my Floo, if you want."

Harry nodded.  "That sounds like a good idea."

His head was swimming.  He hadn't drunk enough to make him lose control of himself, but Malfoy looked amazing, and they were going to his flat.  It wasn't official, but he was thrilled that his plan had actually worked.

"Let's get you up, Potter.  You're clearly more drunk than I am."

Harry took Malfoy's hand.  It was incredibly soft, Malfoy's long fingers wrapping around his own.  He never wanted to let go and decided it was rather important to tell Malfoy.

"Seeing as it's my wand hand, I do need you to let go.  Eventually"  Malfoy's voice was low, with a hint of sensuality.  Goosebumps covered Harry's arms.

He finally stood up.  "Right then.  Let's go."

They walked towards the door, Harry in front of Malfoy.  He felt so warm, so excited that he could barely contain himself.  He had managed to capture Malfoy's attention and trick him into spending time with him without even realizing it.

That was when he slipped as he headed out the door.  He seemed to fall in slow motion, yet, he never hit the ground.

A pair of long, blue arms wrapped around Harry's body, pressing him against the wall.

Harry opened his eyes and saw Malfoy's gray eyes staring intently at him.  He was so close to Malfoy that he could touch that long nose, feel his soft cheeks if he just reached out a bit.  His complexion was flawless, with little blond hairs making his cheeks look like a peach.  His lips - oh, those lips! - were freshly licked and glistened in the candlelight above them.  His mouth was slightly parted.

This was everything he had ever wanted, and it was Malfoy who was making the first move.  Harry was overcome with joy as Malfoy finally opened those lovely lips and pressed them against his own.

The kiss was sweet and tasted of oats.  While neither of them pushed for a full-on snog, they kept their lips pushed together while their hands ran up and down each other's bodies.  Harry ran his fingers through Malfoy's hair; it was like touching silk.  Perhaps he could learn to appreciate silk if it was made up of Malfoy.

"My flat, now."  Malfoy's voice was commanding, and Harry wasn't one to deny Malfoy what he wanted.

After an hour of walking, intense snogging, a handjob in an alley, and Harry tripping over the steps to Malfoy's building, they were finally on Malfoy's bed.

Malfoy slid down Harry's trousers and stared at what was in front of him.

"Yes?"  Harry frowned.

"You're wearing a g-string."

Harry smiled and pulled Malfoy into a searing kiss.  "What?  They're comfortable.  Plus, my arse looks amazing in them."

Malfoy spun Harry around.  "Well, let's just take a look."

As Harry buried his face in his pillow, knowing he was about to experience what could only be described as physical ecstasy, he couldn't help but grin.  Malfoy needed a win.  He didn't mind being the prey captured in Malfoy's teeth.  In fact, he could definitely get used to it.  



End file.
